Breaking Protocol
by WakeFlames
Summary: The development of the relationship between the commander of Havoc Squad (female trooper) and Aric Jorgan. Alternating points of view.
1. Lonely Nights

It was odd at first, being in command of someone who used to be her own CO. If it bothered Sergeant Aric Jorgan that she commanded him now, he never let it show after the day he was demoted. Only that once, when the sting of it was still raw, had he said _I can__'t say I'm happy about it_. Understatement of the decade, that must have been. But that was Jorgan for you. He never put himself before his duty.

Lieutenant Finnara Kinnaid sat alone on the bridge of the ship given to her for Havoc Squad. It was late. She was going through the supplies list that they would gather tomorrow morning for their next mission. They were docked in one of the many bays at the giant spaceport on Coruscant. The capitol city was even bigger and grander than she had expected. And somehow she and Jorgan had gained the attention of the higher-ups at Republic Command. It was all a bit overwhelming. After spending a couple of weeks on missions around the city, they were finally being sent to the dangerous and backwater planet of Taris. Finnara was proud to take on an important mission, but was mostly glad to be getting out of the political drama for a while. She was pretty sure Jorgan felt the same way.

She lounged with her feet up on the edge of the console. She was dressed in her casuals: a fitted tee and a soft pair of pants that gave plenty of mobility. It was nice to be out of uniform. Formal dress was a necessity when spending much time around the Senate Tower. You didn't go visiting General Garza in your casuals.

Noticing that she had been staring off into space for a good five minutes, Finnara sighed and switched off the datapad she had been working on. She wondered if Jorgan was still awake. She got up and quietly padded down the stairwell. The main room was lit only by the soft blue glow of the emergency lights. The door to the bunk room was open halfway, but the lights were off. _What did you expect, Finn?_ She shook her head, finally turning to enter her own quarters. _Just because you__'re feeling lonely doesn't mean you get to ruin his good night's sleep. _He would need it, anyway, judging by the briefing they'd had for the upcoming mission.

When she was finally undressed and in her own bed, she lay staring at the ceiling, wondering if sleep would come tonight. She didn't seem to sleep much these days. She liked the new responsibilities of leadership, but she didn't get much time to herself. She often ended up staying awake until she had sorted out her thoughts at the end of the day.

A small part of her wished there was someone she could talk to about her worries, and about how lonely leadership really made her feel. Jorgan was the closest she had to a friend, these days. They were friendly enough, but she couldn't talk to him about her self-doubt. She was still trying to live up to his high expectations of the commander of Havoc. She knew it didn't really matter what he thought personally, because he would obey his CO no matter what. But for some absurd reason she wanted to earn his respect. She wanted him to like her.

She and Jorgan trusted one another, certainly. Every day they spent in the field together they were more in tune with each other's habits and strengths. They both had a similar desire for efficiency, and a sharp focus on their goals. As combat partners they were an excellent match.

As people that had to share the majority of their days together, however, they were purely professional. Focusing on work came easily to them both. Finnara liked it; it was something she understood. But she missed even the small amount of camaraderie that she'd had at the academy. Her bunk-mate back then was a cheerful girl named Ellie, who loved to tease her but always had her back. Ellie also always knew when Finnara was preoccupied with something, and never failed to get it out of her.

Finnara had never been good at opening up, even to Ellie, but now she missed those late-night talks with her friend. After they both graduated, Finnara had been recruited for Havoc, and Ellie assigned to a distant planet. _I think it was Balmorra? I wonder how she__'s doing._ Finnara made a mental note to check in with her sometime soon.

Finnara sighed, wondering if they would ever manage to rebuild Havoc as the elite squad it had once been. _One goal at a time, Finn. _They had to start by making sure Tavus and the men that had betrayed Havoc wouldn't come back to cause more trouble. The war, and her part in it, had become infinitely more complicated than she had ever imagined. The only way she knew how to get through it was by doing what she knew how to do best: stay focused and get the job done.

_On it_. She smiled to herself. That's what Jorgan would say.

* * *

_Disclaimer: Characters and plot belong to the creators of SWTOR._


	2. Pleasant Mornings

Sergeant Aric Jorgan rolled out of bed abruptly as the comm set off his morning alarm. The bunk room had enough space for another five members, but he slept alone, since at present Havoc squad was only made up of its commander and himself. He had chosen one of the bottom bunks with the best view of the door. Being prepared at all times was what he knew how to do best.

The lights automatically began to brighten slowly in their morning sequence. He shook himself to shed the pull of sleepiness, and padded over to the small adjoining washroom. He stripped down and hopped into the ship's shower. The mist sprayed from all sides as he scrubbed down. It didn't beat the feel of flowing water from a real shower, but it got the job done. Water was a precious commodity in space; the mist shower was designed to use as little as possible, then purify and recycle it back for re-use. He admired the efficiency of it.

The tall Cathar stood still as the shower blew warm air to dry him off, then stepped out and dressed quickly in his basic uniform. They were only making a quick visit to the market today before leaving on their next mission, so no need for formal wear as they had when going to the Senate. He stretched his toes, enjoying a moment more with his feet bare — if every Cathar could have done his duty as a republic soldier barefoot, he would — before shoving them into a pair of sturdy black boots that were broken in with much wear. He frowned at the scuffs on them. He would polish them later. He headed down the hall to the small mess tucked on one side of the briefing room.

He rounded the corner and was surprised by the sight of his commander, Lieutenant Finnara Kinnaid, leaning back on the counter and blowing carefully on the surface of a hot cup of coffee in her hands.

Her orange-red hair fell in loose waves around her shoulders, down to the middle of her back. She always wore it neatly tied up, and he hadn't known it was so long. She was still in her soft gray casuals, and he noticed suddenly how well the clothes hugged her lean curves. Her lips were still pursed in cooling her drink, and he realized she was a very attractive woman.

He had known she looked nice enough when they met, but he was aware now that he hadn't actually looked at her closely before. She was stunning. She had an elegant straight nose, high cheekbones and a pair of no-nonsense eyebrows. Her long, dark lashes framed a pair of dazzling gray-blue eyes. He realized he had been staring when the next moment those eyes looked up at him.

"Morning, Jorgan," she smiled at him. "Coffee?" She tipped her head to indicate the pot on the warmer next to her.

He nodded, realizing she hadn't noticed anything, and wordlessly stepped over to the counter. He busied himself digging for a cup and pouring his drink. He was acutely aware of his proximity to her. Scolding himself inwardly, he focused on finding something to eat as well.

By the time he had procured some breakfast, Finnara had moved over to sit at the small table opposite the cook area. She closed her eyes, cradling the coffee under her nose.

"Ahh, we need to stock up on this stuff before we leave. Remind me, will you?"

"Yes, sir." Jorgan managed. He felt like a god-damned rookie, standing here all tongue-tied. _Get it together, Jorgan. It__'s not like she's the first woman you've ever seen_. It was a good thing they were used to periods of silence between them, or she would be wondering what the hell was going on with him already.

"Somehow I don't think the coffee on Taris will be Coruscant's finest blend." She opened her eyes again as he took the seat opposite her. "And you know you don't have to 'Sir' me at breakfast, Jorgan."

"Yes, s—" It was an automatic reflex. "Okay."

She grinned at him. "Much better."

He couldn't help but smile back a little. They finished their breakfast, chatting about what was left to do in preparing for the trip. For the most part Finnara went through her list and Jorgan added a comment here or there. By the end Jorgan had mostly quelled any sign of improper thoughts about his commander, but he still avoided looking at her for long. That striking hair made his thoughts go a bit fuzzy.

She finally got up and put away her breakfast dishes. "Report out front in five. I'll be right down."

When she left the room Jorgan let out a slow breath, telling himself to focus. _You__'re a soldier. There are regulations about this kind of thing. She's your CO. Do your job._ He deliberately pulled himself upright, quickly cleaned up and headed down to report for duty in the docking bay. He was not going to let anything get in the way of their mission. Being part of Havoc Squad was the best way of bringing justice to the men that had betrayed him. Their defection had caused him to be demoted and placed under Lieutenant Kinnaid's command. He was determined to do the Republic proud in hunting them down, no matter what.

When Finnara appeared again, her hair was wrapped up tightly and she was crisply dressed in her basic uniform. He saluted her, and they got to work.

* * *

_Disclaimer: Characters and plot belong to the creators of SWTOR._


	3. Hot Days

The first time Finnara saw more of Aric Jorgan's skin than his head and forearms was on the blisteringly hot planet of Tatooine.

They had been trekking across the desert for hours, and they were both sweaty, grumpy and exhausted. A man from the nearby outpost had come to them begging for them to save his "loved ones," but the idiot hadn't mentioned that what he called his loved ones were in fact a collection of small robots. They had ventured into open territory and the many dangers of the desert for a handful of fucking _bots_. _What an asshole._

Neither she nor her sergeant had said much since discovering this information. They were about halfway back, and the sun was beating down as unmercifully as ever, when abruptly Jorgan stopped and began stripping off his upper half of clothing. He shed armor and his uniform shirt, and finally the sleeveless undershirt beneath.

"If I may, sir," he growled. "The sooner we get off this planet, the better."

She grunted in agreement. She was trying not to look at his muscled chest and lean torso. The sight was making her feel a bit heady. She had idly wondered before what his skin looked like, because his Cathar coloring was a mix of dark orange, brown and gold on his head and neck. She saw now that the same colors continued down his body, with more gold on his chest and abs, and more orange on his back. She wondered suddenly what his skin felt like. She realized she had never touched Jorgan, not skin on skin. _Stop it Finn._ She shook herself. This heat was getting to her.

Jorgan was putting his chest armor back on, leaving off the layers of clothing. She turned and scanned the perimeter as he stuffed the shirts into his pack. They had only run into one group of Sand People, but they didn't want to be taken by surprise. The Sand People were ruthless, and experts at navigating this landscape of rock and sand.

Finnara took a swig out of her water canteen, and Jorgan did the same before they started off again. He went ahead of her, and she caught herself admiring the long lines of his toned figure. Yes, it would be good to get off this planet, and to have a good, cold shower. For several reasons.

* * *

_Disclaimer: Characters and plot belong to the creators of SWTOR._


	4. Civil Conversations

Jorgan had thought Jonas Balkar had been annoying the last time, but the way he was looking at the Captain now was making Jorgan grit his teeth. It was a predatory, seductive look. And worse, Captain Finnara Kinnaid didn't seem to mind. In fact, she looked like she was enjoying it.

She had a hand on one hip, her head tilted slightly, eying the handsome SIS agent in front of her. Her mouth was curved in an appreciative smile. Jonas had just made some smooth remark about her being "a vision in MK body armor" and she had actually giggled—_giggled!_ Jorgan was startled enough by the uncharacteristic behavior of his CO that he didn't punch the smug expression off Jonas' face right then and there.

The agent was speaking again. "Ah captain. You brighten my day, fatten my bank account, and gun down imps like maimed banthas. Marry me when this war is over?"

Finnara's grin grew wider. "We'll stick to drinks for now. You know how to find me."

Realizing his nails were digging into his palms, Jorgan carefully unclenched his hands, hoping no one had noticed.

"Alright, alright, knock it off kids," interjected Prellon Garn, the agent they had just rescued. "We got business to discuss." Jorgan grasped at the chance to focus on something — anything — other than the way Finnara and Jonas were looking at each other right now. He trained his eyes on Garn.

After explaining briefly about the intel he had gathered on the Gauntlet super weapon that the Empire was developing, Garn bid them a swift farewell on his way to send his report to General Garza at Republic Command.

"You'd better head back to Coruscant, Captain," said Jonas, a tone of regret in his voice. "I'm sure Garza will want to keep Havoc in the loop."

Finnara nodded. "I'll head there immediately."

Jonas winked at her. "Take care, Captain."

After Jonas' back finally disappeared around the corner of the spaceport lounge, Jorgan felt inordinately relieved. He glanced at his CO and saw she was still smiling, looking in the direction the agent had left.

Finally she turned. "Better head out then," she said shortly.

He nodded, following as she strode toward the bay where their ship was docked. He didn't miss the extra sway in her step. Feeling suddenly embarrassed, he forced his eyes on the ground as they walked.

After what seemed like the longest two minute walk of his life they reached the ship, and he excused himself to conduct a cleaning and inspection of their weaponry. Finnara gave him a quizzical look, knowing he had cleaned their gear only two days before, but she handed over her blaster rifle without comment.

After the captain had left for the bridge to prepare for departure, Jorgan let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. He shut himself in the arms closet and tried to focus on the gear, only now and then thinking about a pair of gray-blue eyes and long, silky orange hair.

* * *

_Disclaimer: Characters and plot belong to the creators of SWTOR._


	5. Fiery Sunsets

Jorgan had to admit that he was impressed by how well Captain Finnara Kinnaid had taken to command.

He had his doubts at the beginning, but only because she was untested, fresh from the academy. She had immediately convinced him of her dedication. But her talent had surprised him.

At present they were sitting at opposite sides of the small shuttle, heading back to the Republic base on Balmorra. It was evening, and the sun was setting on the horizon in a blaze of color. Jorgan looked across at his commander. She was staring out her window, watching the sky. It wasn't often they had time to enjoy a sunset.

The shuttle curved in its path and her orange hair caught the light, bright as flame. It was knotted behind her head, but a lock had fallen free against her face. Jorgan couldn't help but admire the sight of her. The set of her jaw was determined, and her profile graceful. Though her eyes looked tired.

They had finally finished their mission on Balmorra: to find the demolitionist Tanno Vik and recruit him to the squad. Tanno had turned out to be something of a wild card, not taking to orders and discipline well. He seemed mostly interested in himself. Finnara had cracked down hard on him, however. Jorgan wasn't sure how she had done it, but somehow she had gained a measure of trust from Tanno. He admired her all the more for it, because he wasn't sure he could have done the same. Tanno annoyed him too much.

Their little squad was growing into a haphazard group of individuals, but Finnara was the thread that held them all together. The medic Elara Dorne who loved her rules and regulations; the ruthless, Imperial-hating robot M4-X; the giant trigger-happy Weequay; whatever their differences, they all wanted to please their commander. He was proud to be a part of whatever group she led. And since she had promoted him to XO, he was determined to make her proud, too.

Since finishing their hunt for the former Havoc squad traitors, Jorgan had thought a lot about his place in the squad. He was no longer preoccupied with a singular mission of justice. He realized he liked being part of a group that was able to act on its own, with less over-the-shoulder attention from the Republic. They had direction from Republic command, but as long as they delivered the desired results they could go about those missions as they saw best. And he couldn't ask for a better CO than Finnara.

The promotion that Finnara had given him meant more to him than he could say. He was glad to finally put his demotion behind him, having gained back the rank that he had lost. But he was even prouder that Finnara had given it to him. And she had certainly earned her promotion to Captain that had preceded his own advance.

The shuttle rounded another curve around a mountaintop and began to descend toward the base. The sun fell below the line of the mountains. He looked over at his Captain again and found she was slumped against the window, asleep. _She must have been more tired than she would admit_. Her expression had softened, her mouth parted slightly. She was always so tough and professional, and asleep she looked more gentle. Jorgan suddenly very much wanted to tuck the stray lock of hair behind her ear.

He knew he was attracted to his Captain. There was no denying she was a beautiful woman. But he was beginning to realize that he really cared about her. She was smart, loyal, and a good-natured companion. He trusted her completely. It was getting harder to convince himself that the military regulations prohibiting relationships between soldiers were strictly necessary. He didn't really know what it meant, but he knew he wanted to stay near Finnara no matter what else happened.

And blast it, but he wanted to kiss those soft lips.

As the shuttle made its descent, Jorgan let his captain sleep on, even if only for a few moments more. She deserved every minute.

* * *

_Disclaimer: Characters and plot belong to the creators of SWTOR._


	6. Curious Reactions

When Finnara saw Aric Jorgan drop in the middle of a firefight, she thought her heart might fall through the pit of her stomach.

She gave a wordless shout, ducking behind the torn-up wall of the crashed ship they were exploring. They had been in worse fights before, but this one had taken them somewhat by surprise; they expected to find imperials, but they hadn't expected the ruthless battle droids that the Empire usually reserved for larger ground battles. _Though we should be prepared for anything,_ she thought, angry at herself.

She crouched and leaned out to take a shot at the remaining droid, which was steadily advancing toward her location. She dodged out of the way again as it returned fire. Hoth was a chaotic mess. Between the Republic, the Imperials, and the various bands of pirates, they were kept infinitely busy. And even though she had been told that Hoth was "strategically important," Finnara wasn't sure there was much worth fighting for on this lump of ice.

Right now she didn't care one jot about anything other than finding out if her Lieutenant was alright. She allowed herself a quick glance across at where Jorgan had fallen. He was lying too still.

Finnara felt her blood pounding, but made herself wait until the droid had advanced just far enough. She dove out, firing straight at the turret on top. She stepped forward and finished it off with the butt of her rifle, smashing the sensor array so that it couldn't send any further messages to nearby patrols.

Without pausing, she dashed over to Jorgan, falling to her knees in the snow beside him.

"Aric! Can you hear me?" He looked unconscious. She looked quickly over his body for signs of a wound. There was a large burned section of armor across his middle. "Oh, come on, Aric." Panicking, she struggled to strip off her gloves, ignoring the cold, and put her fingers to his neck to feel for a pulse.

At her touch, Jorgan groaned and turned his head toward her, his eyes opening weakly. She nearly cried with relief.

"Captain," he rasped, "you're not supposed to take your gloves off." She couldn't help but laugh.

She retrieved her hand to look at the burned armor again. "Are you alright under there?"

"Looks worse than it is," he responded, his voice getting clearer. "I think it just winded me." She saw him wince as he moved to sit up.

Frowning, she stood and helped him to his feet. "I'm still making you check in with Elara when we get back."

"Yes, sir."

Hearing the familiar phrase in his deep baritone voice sent a wave of relief through her again. She looked up at his still slightly-dazed face, and knowing it was very un-soldier-like of her, she threw her arms around him in a tight hug.

He grunted in pain, and an instant later she released him, worried gray-blue eyes searching his gold ones. He only looked startled.

"Sir?" He brushed snow off of himself. "What was that for?"

Feeling embarrassed, she busied herself with putting her gloves back on. "I'm just glad you're alright." She could feel her cheeks flushing, and hoped he didn't notice, or would think it was the cold.

When she finally looked up again he was watching her, but he simply nodded in response.

They set off back toward base. It wasn't far, so they hadn't brought speeders on what seemed like a quick grab-and-go op. Now Finnara fervently wished they had. She kept a careful eye on her Lieutenant the whole way back. She knew he would never complain about an injury that he felt was trivial (which meant most things short of loss of limbs) and he would probably push himself too hard. She set the pace slower than usual. She was sure he noticed, but he said nothing. She only caught him wincing again once.

They were nearly back, having just waved at the perimeter guard, when Jorgan spoke.

"You called me Aric."

Surprised, she looked over at him. His gaze was focused on the snow in front of him. They both knew she only ever called him Jorgan, or by his rank. She was at a loss for words. "Uh—yeah."

He seemed untroubled by her response. "It was… nice," he said. Finally he looked at her, and smiled.

"Oh." It was as unexpected for him to smile at her as it was to hear him say something was 'nice.' It was a good smile, she thought. It made the hard lines of his face look more handsome than stern.

She didn't get time to think about it further, because they were now in earshot of the guards on duty at the huge blast doors to the Republic base. Jorgan seemed content to leave the conversation there. She was distracted as they checked in, finally deciding she would need to think about it later, when those gold eyes and the tall, handsome Cathar behind them weren't so close.

When they got back to their ship, she made Jorgan go straight to the med bay. He protested only halfheartedly. She hovered until the businesslike medic Elara Dorne ordered her out of the way. Finnara stalked up to the bridge and tried to distract herself by reading through her messages on the holonet.

She thought a lot about Jorgan, these days. She knew she liked the practical Cathar, but she was discovering she felt more than just friendship toward him. She had known she was attracted to him for a while; every time she caught him shirtless, or exercising in the training room, or when she watched his lithe form walk ahead of her… she found herself trying to stare at inanimate objects a lot.

It seemed like there was more to it, though. The panic that had welled up in her today at the thought of losing him had been unexpected. He was more to her than a friend and loyal soldier. He was the one person she absolutely trusted. They had been through so much together. _If this war ever ends, I hope that wherever we go, we go together._

Hearing footsteps, she turned to see the subject of her thoughts appear out of the stairwell. Jorgan's shirt was gone—she mentally forced herself not to react—and a bandage was wrapped around his middle.

"I'm pronounced hale and hearty, ready for duty, Captain," he said. "Just a burn or two, and I'll be fully healed in a few days."

"Theoretically," she said, getting up from her seat. "If I ordered you to take a day off to rest, you would probably just spend too much time working in the armory anyway, right Lieutenant?"

He didn't miss a beat. "Yes, sir. Theoretically, sir."

She sighed. "Fine. Just don't go getting yourself shot again, all right?"

"Wasn't planning to, sir."

"I told you, you can drop the 'sir' when you're off duty, Jorg—Aric." She swallowed hard.

A ghost of a smile played on his lips. "It's a hard habit to break, Finnara."

_That_ startled her. She stared at him, realizing that she had never once heard him use her first name. _It _was_ nice_, she thought, feeling breathless.

They both realized then that they had been standing there looking at one another for too long. Jorgan gave a salute, which they both immediately noticed was awkward after the words they had just spoken, and Finnara nodded back at him, which she knew was insufficient. Jorgan turned abruptly and retreated down the stairs.

_What__'s wrong with you, Finn? _She covered her face with her palms for a moment, embarrassed and, she realized, a bit disappointed. She examined that thought. _It__'s not like he would break regulation like that, anyway. _And she wouldn't ask him to. She knew how much the rules meant to him.

Sighing for probably the thousandth time, she wondered what was to become of her and her handsome Cathari XO.

* * *

_Disclaimer: Characters and plot belong to the creators of SWTOR._


	7. Stolen Kisses

Finnara trudged wearily up the entry ramp to her ship, following her XO. They were finally getting ready to depart for Coruscant, after a month on Hoth.

"I hope we never have to come back to this ice-covered rock of a planet," she grumbled. Jorgan just grunted in agreement, seeming preoccupied.

Finnara was more than glad to be done with their mission here, even though it meant that now they had an expert technical specialist on their team. Yuun was a welcome addition to Havoc, and she liked his calm demeanor. But she decided she hated the snow-covered planet where they had found him. It was a dangerous, chaotic place, and on top of that it was just so blasted _cold_.

Huffing at her sore muscles, she lifted her blaster rifle off her shoulder, tailing Jorgan into the armory closet to stow her weapon. She clipped her rifle into the rack and crossed toward the door.

"Sir—" Jorgan's voice stopped her before she stepped through the door frame. She looked back at him.

"Hmm?"

He was looking right at her, with a concentrated expression on his face. "Can we—talk?"

What was this about? She turned to him. "Go ahead."

He looked around uncomfortably, and she realized belatedly that he probably had meant something more private. But before she could say anything, he spoke again.

"You're my commanding officer. When we're on the field, I'm supposed to be following your lead and watching your back. Well," he gulped and glanced at his feet. "I'm watching your back alright… and everything else, too. It's—unprofessional."

Finnara's breath had caught at his admission. All she could think was _I stare at your ass, too,_ but that wasn't exactly something a CO said to her subordinate.

Feeling unprepared for this situation, and because her brain always defaulted to combat mode when she was nervous, she went for lightness. "As long as it doesn't affect your combat performance, stare away."

He gave a short bark of a laugh. "Keep that armor intact and we won't have a problem." Realizing the implication of what he had just said, his face immediately flushed. "Look," he plowed on, "I don't know if this thing between us is going anywhere. You're a remarkable woman… but you're still my CO." His voice hardened. "I ever cross a line, go too far, you let me know."

Finnara could feel her heart pounding in her chest. She wasn't sure if it was tiredness making her bold, or if it had something to do with the way he had just said _remarkable woman_, but she stepped up close to him and said with an impish smile, "If you've got something to say, then say it."

His eyes had widened when she moved toward him. Then suddenly they sharpened, and he said with a low growl, "Fine."

Then he slipped an arm around her waist, pulled her against him, and kissed her.

His lips were soft, and warm. _Why didn__'t we do this sooner?_ She wondered idly, kissing him back. She was acutely aware of where their bodies pressed together, and where his hands rested on her hips. She spread her hands on his chest, wishing he wasn't wearing so much armor.

They heard voices in the hallway and broke apart, both gasping. By the way Jorgan was looking at her, he also didn't think that had been nearly enough, but neither of them wanted to have to explain themselves to the rest of the squad just yet.

He suddenly grinned at her. "I've said my piece." His voice was soft. "We'll talk again soon." She felt a blush warming her cheeks. Jorgan seemed to enjoy the effect his words had on her, because his grin grew wider.

She didn't get to respond, because just then Tanno, Elara and Yuun were at the door. Finnara busied herself with getting out of the way so that they could stow their weapons, too. She ducked her head, hoping her pink cheeks didn't show, and excused herself to her quarters.

By the time she emerged to make the necessary holocall to General Garza and give her report, she had cooled off her face (a cold splash of water did wonders) and calmed her pounding heart. The team gathered around the holo and they received their orders to immediately assemble for the assault on the Gauntlet super-weapon.

She only glanced at Jorgan one or two times more than completely necessary.

* * *

_Disclaimer: Characters and plot belong to the creators of SWTOR._


	8. Other Amusements

Finnara realized it was a week since she and Jorgan had shared that kiss. They had been kept too busy to have any time alone again. The assault on the Gauntlet had been a success, though Elara Dorne had a close call in the fight on the Gauntlet's bridge. Jorgan had been with her; Finnara felt a bit sick when she thought about the danger he had been in as well. But she knew that it was because of Jorgan that Elara was alive now. He had held off their enemies and patched her up until reinforcements arrived. Now Elara was safely in the Republic Fleet's medical center, and would be for the next couple of weeks.

Finnara sighed, getting up from the pilot seat on the bridge and heading down the stairs. They had just arrived on Coruscant, to report to Republic Command as ordered. The whole squad was sobered by the experience with Elara. They had a few hours before they were due at the Senate, but having nothing better to do, she figured it wouldn't hurt to head over early. Time to dig out the formal uniform again.

"Attention all Havoc Squad personnel," Jorgan's voice came over the comm system. "I'm instating some mandatory down time, effective immediately. So… get out, have fun. That's an order."

Finnara felt her insides flutter a little, wondering what on earth Jorgan was doing. He hardly ever suggested down time, let alone ordered it. She was usually the one reminding him to take it himself.

She heard a cheer down the hall—that was Tanno. He would probably spend every minute of his time off at the nearest possible cantina. At the bottom of the stairs she met Yuun on his way out. He bowed his head to her in passing, and she smiled back.

She listened as the sounds of her squad members faded down the exit ramp. She turned toward her quarters, deciding she would put her uniform on early after all.

"I thought a little R&R might do the squad some good," came Jorgan's voice behind her.

She turned to him. He stood facing her, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He was wearing only a basic tee and casual pants. She couldn't help herself noticing how the shirt sleeves hugged the lean muscle of his arms.

"I also figured," he continued, "a little alone time would do us some good." There was a glint in his eye that was making her nervous and excited all at once.

She tucked her arms behind her and leaned back on the door frame. "You think we should 'rest and relax' together?" She teased.

She heard his breath catch. "Something like that."

She wasn't sure which one of them initiated the kiss that followed, but soon his mouth was on hers and she didn't care. He was sliding one hand behind her neck and the other to the small of her back, sending a tingle of pleasure up her spine. Wrapping her arms around him, she deepened the kiss. She flicked her tongue against his lips and he gave a low moan.

They stumbled sideways into her bedroom, and Finnara broke their embrace only to reach over and smack the close button for the door. A moment later she was kissing him again, and she slid her hands under the bottom of his shirt to spread her hands across his toned abs. He made a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr.

They shed clothing left and right. There was only one pause, when Finnara had stripped off the last garment and stopped to pull her hair out of its knot. Jorgan's gold eyes were reverent as he tentatively touched the long orange hair that tumbled over her naked shoulders.

"Damn it, woman," he breathed. "You are gorgeous."

She didn't have words to respond to that, so she just wrapped herself around him and pulled him into bed with her.

* * *

_Disclaimer: Characters and world belong to the creators of SWTOR._


	9. New Arrangements

"Give me a boost, will you?" Finnara beckoned Jorgan over. They were deep in the prison tunnels on Belsavis. The Major had decided they were going to repair the security cameras in this sector, since their mission had brought them down this far.

Jorgan stepped over to where Finnara was standing near the wall, and dropped to one knee. She held on to his shoulders and carefully pushed up to stand on the step he created. Jorgan was acutely aware of how close she was, and especially her—very fine—ass that was nearly in his face. He closed his eyes briefly, focusing on staying still.

"That's it. I can almost reach now… there." Finnara wobbled, grabbing his shoulder for support. Instinctively, he reached up to steady her, realizing too late that the closest thing to steady was in fact that fine ass of hers. He bit his lip. _Focus, man._

Since they had started sleeping together, Jorgan found himself more distracted than ever by his attractive and enigmatic CO. Neither he nor Finnara had spoken about what this new relationship meant, and he knew they were both aware of the numerous regulations they were violating. But being with Finnara felt _right_. He was more comfortable being close to her than with anyone else, ever. He was certain that he wanted to continue with whatever this was between them.

Jorgan was also certain that the rest of the squad knew exactly where he disappeared at night when he didn't go to his own bunk. He wasn't sure if he felt better or worse that they never said a word about it.

Finnara climbed down from her perch on his knee. "I can't quite reach the top of that to turn it back on. Can you try lifting me just for a sec?"

Jorgan stood. "Yup, where do you want me?"

"Er, back to the wall I guess." She moved to stand in front of him as he adjusted his position.

She put her arms up and Jorgan grabbed her waist and lifted her up. She leaned into him as she reached up to hit the switch. "Got it!" As Jorgan let her down, her body slid against his and he suddenly felt hot all over.

As she landed, his arms still on her waist, Jorgan guessed by the blush that crept into her cheeks that he probably wasn't the only one getting distracted.

"Um." She looked up at him, not moving away. Her voice went soft. "Hypothetically, if I ordered you to kiss me right now, would you object?"

He only knew one way to answer that. So he did. Ignoring the voice in his head that was telling him to focus on the mission, he kissed her long and hard, until they both broke away gasping.

"Mmf." Finnara grinned at him. "I'll have to get you up against a wall more often."

Jorgan swallowed hard. "Now that's just unfair." She only laughed, her eyes dancing. She was even more beautiful when she smiled, he thought.

"Come on," she pulled away and started off down the long hallway. "Back to work."

He followed wordlessly, trying to sort out his brain, which was definitely not focused on work anymore.

She turned and threw a wink at him. "Maybe you'll have to boost me again."

No, this was not a distraction that he was going to be able to ignore. He would have to get used to it. And somehow he didn't really mind that idea at all.

* * *

_Disclaimer: Characters and world belong to the creators of SWTOR._


End file.
